


I'm Not A Mind Reader

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [123]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Warlock Dowling, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26605672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: While Adam sifted through the displayed suits in search of something that wasn't a dark neutral, Warlock drifted back and forth between the suits and the dresses
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling/Adam Young
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [123]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 31
Kudos: 783





	I'm Not A Mind Reader

While Adam sifted through the displayed suits in search of something that wasn't a dark neutral, Warlock drifted back and forth between the suits and the dresses, their face growing ever more pinched with each new suggestion from the assistant.

"No thank you," Warlock repeated in a small, stiff voice. This time, though, they clarified, "I'd prefer something that didn't make me look like my dad."

Adam's head came up at that, as did Crowley's. The assistant looked from Warlock to Crowley as if to imply nothing would ever make them look alike and offered an even more conservative suit. It was about as opposite to Crowley's look as you could get. Warlock flinched. Crowley opened his mouth but before he could say something, Adam swept in with a smile as bright and hard as diamond.

"We have another appointment, must go," he said, and bustled Warlock and Crowley out to the Bentley.

With his cane propped on Aziraphale's seat and Warlock and Adam in the back, Crowley took a moment to breathe through the ache in his leg before he twisted his head to look back at them. "Appointment?" he echoed, trying for amusement.

Adam reddened. "First thing that came to me." he mumbled, holding Warlock close. "And I didn't want her hurting you. Either of you."

Warlock buried their face in Adam's shirt, shoulders shaking. "She kept pushing me away from what I wanted."

"Yeah, I think she mistook Crowley for your dad."

"Oh."

Crowley sighed. "Not going back there then. Look, I have to talk to my tailor about _my_ outfit. You want to tag along while I talk to them?"

"Generic they or specific they?" Warlock wanted to know.

"Specific."

"Might as well try them then."

When they got there, Crowley simply handed over his dark red, snake-handled cane with a tired-sounding, "Something that goes with this and doesn't overshadow the happy couple." and sagged down onto the row of chairs.

"And what are the couple's colours?"

Adam supplied politely, "Green, white, and purple."

"Oh? Pride colours?"

"Not exactly." Adam looped an arm round Warlock, whose pinched expression was finally beginning to fade as they stared up at the gender-variant posters on the walls. "They're the colours we both have in our various pride flags, though in different shades."

The tailor glanced at Adam's nails (gold stars on purple). "Do you do those yourself?"

"My partner helps."

Warlock nodded. "I had a - carer - when I was a kid who was really into illuminated bibles. One of the things he taught me was how to paint these incredibly fine, intricate, patterns with the tiniest of brushes. I think what he meant to teach me was how to take care with everything, but..."

"Well then, perhaps you'd like to look through our catalogue while you wait. We'll have this back to you," they held up the cane in Crowley's direction, "very shortly."

* * *

Dr Crowley was demonstrating how he wanted things planted in the annuals bed when he leaned forward and a ring swung free of his shirt on a thin chain. He grimaced, mouth twisting beneath his ever present dark glasses, and tucked it back out of sight, apparently oblivious to the spate of rumours that started up behind him.

"Was that...?" someone murmured

"A wedding ring?" he completed, clearly having heard the quiet words even though he didn't turn. "Yes," he added shortly. "Mine."

Oh. _Oh._ He was _married_.

Someone ventured, "Do we know them?"

Dr Crowley straightened on the bench, and twisted to give them a long steady look, though not a glare. "Probably," he answered, his voice very dry. "Not being a mind reader, I couldn't tell you for sure. Now, since you clearly have time to use, you can come up here and do the first few..."

For the duration of the lesson, that was that, although a suppressed ripple of eagerness frothed below the surface, just waiting to be out of there so they could all speculate in peace.


End file.
